


Dragon Age shorts

by Salome



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14598219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salome/pseuds/Salome
Summary: Dragon Age shorts. Gen, het and slash eventually, rarepairs. Characters and/or pairings in chapter titles.





	1. The Right Words - Cullen, Greagoir, gen, post-Trespasser

Cullen had been thinking what he would say to Knight-Commander Greagoir if he ever met him again. After all, the man had been one of the people that shaped Cullen, made him what he was. Like a mother bear’s tongue - at that thought Cullen shuddered a little at the memory of the incident with Storvacker - licking the cubs, born mere lumps of flesh, into shape.

Cullen had always been bad at expressing his feelings, at a loss when needing to speak about such simple things as friendship, admiration, gratitude, compassion. After some time he’d regain his footing, but the beginning of a conversation had always been the worst. He had long had a habit of addressing the people he had something to say to in advance, in his head, while walking, or training, or falling asleep, or, lately, doing menial tasks for the shelter.

So maybe he would tell Greagoir, “You were right, ser, about saving the Circle. I was too naive, and stubborn, and hurt to understand, but I see it now, and I only wish it hadn’t taken me so much time.”

Or, “I’ve met him. Rhys is an honorable man. Also, he is nothing like you in character, but I think you two could see eye to eye.”

Or, maybe, “Thank you. You taught me so much. It was only years later that I understood the lessons you had been giving us back in Kinloch Hold, but they had proved invaluable.”

But however he tried to turn the phrase, the words seemed forced, hollow.

When Cullen met Greagoir again, at long last, the words he needed came naturally, without rehearsing.

“Come, now,” Cullen said, walking into the room with a clean cloth in one hand, a pot of salve in the other. “Please don’t cry. Now, if you could lift your chin a bit, I’ll take care of your eyes…”


	2. F!Lavellan/Solas, Post-Trespasser

She’s not escaping, Ellana tells herself. Just taking a respite. It’s not that she is crumbling under the pressure, no, of course not, it’s just that there’s no morning sickness in the Fade.

Her surroundings are hazy, twirling, constantly changing shape - she has to be careful to choose the right path. She needs it to take her to a nice, safe, nurturing place, somewhere that will be good for the future baby.

Best not to think about the one who taught her how to pick paths. What happens in the Fade stays in the Fade, right? Except at that very moment she feels a movement that proves it is not always so. Tiny and fleeting, like a fingerling fish tickling the inside of her womb, it makes her heart jump a little.

She stays for a while in the corner of the Fade she found: soft murmurs of a shallow stream, stained glass squares hanging from the branches of a willow tree scattering spots of colored light everywhere. It is so peaceful - perhaps she should make this place a backup nursery. Just in case something happens on the other side of the Veil.

It’s time to go back. Her friends are waiting for her to make another important decision, in another ongoing war, against the power that posed as their ally - why is it always her who has to make the decisions?

Anyway, making herself leave the Fade is always the hardest of them all. Every time it is a leap of faith, a journey into nothingness. Every time she desperately hopes there is still the world to wake up in.


	3. Skyhold at Night - Cullen/Dorian one-sided, Dorian/m!Lavellan

Being both socially awkward and having a lively imagination is a sure way to non-existent love life.

The problem is, it’s not easy to hit it off with someone who has no idea that you’ve already Had It All – in your head, that you’ve unfastened buckle after buckle on his coat – in your thoughts, traced a line along his neck with your lips and heard him gasp, saw him naked, embraced him entered him and felt his heat… And then the reality takes a wrong turn and your scenario crumbles, everything goes not as expected, you find that your prospective lover has already started a relationship with someone else – it’s better not to keep up hopes from the start.

Cullen stretched at his desk, heard something in his back pop. He rubbed his eyes, forcing away the dirty thoughts, then looked out the window, wondering if it was not too late to discuss his findings with the Inquisitor. He had been comparing the reports from his men and Leliana’s all night. A pale Moon was crawling up across the darkening sky from behind the ramparts. Cullen collected the papers and stepped outside.

He knocked on the Inquisitor’s door, but there was no answer. The door was unlocked, the lights on, and Cullen walked in, stepped on a soft bump, a discarded article of clothing? He looked down. He should have stopped then, when a shiny buckle on a leather coat under his foot reflected a gleam from a magic light into his eye. Instead, he took another step inside, and another, as if pulled in by a siren’s call only he could hear.

The two men in the room didn’t seem to notice him, so preoccupied they were with each other. Pressing his hand to his mouth so that no sound should escape, Cullen watched the muscles on Dorian’s ass tense and relax with the back-and-forth movements of his pelvis, watched the snake tattoo curl along Dorian’s side and back, watched his shoulders glisten with sweat. Cullen felt hot – with arousal, embarrassment, hurt that Dorian was with someone else? – he himself wasn’t sure.

All Cullen could see of Mahanon were his narrow feet thrown over Dorian’s arms. The toes were tense, stretched apart, and judging by Mahanon’s moans and whimpers, he was enjoying himself immensely.

Dorian leaned in for a kiss, and that broke the spell enough for Cullen to step back before he burned a hole in the Inquisitor’s carpet. He left the file with his predictions on the Corypheus’ army movements in the reception room and fled.

I should have left at once, Cullen thought while climbing his ladder, so embarrassing. I should have declined Cassandra’s offer and never have met him at all. I should have never become a Templar, and then perhaps my parents would be alive, and I’d be happily married with five kids in Honnleath. It’s for the best that I never confessed to him: he prefers to top, I’d never agree to bottom, nothing good would come of it anyway.

One thought of the unbearable scene in the Inquisitor’s room and a few strokes with his hand were enough for him to come. Wind was howling in the leaky roof.


End file.
